The Elder Scrolls: Convergence
by LightningRaider
Summary: More than 100 years after the Dragon Crisis, Tamriel faces a much more dangerous threat. But while all this occurs, a young man must save the world due to a prophecy, but he can't do it alone...
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

Authors Note: I will be releasing a new chapter every few days, stay tuned for more!

Running. Running. That's all I ever knew.

"Get back here you milk drinker!" shouted the Nord chasing me. I quickly burst down the old cobblestone street, my legs carrying me as fast as they could. Not far later, I ducked into an alleyway and crouched quietly as the drunken Nord shouted loudly for his missing coin purse. I grinned as I looked down at the bag of jingling septims now in my hand. I had become accustomed to this way of life.

The Nord slowed down as he glanced around the street drunkenly. He took another swig of his mead and continued running in a blind rage past the alleyway. Such was the ways of the city of Kvatch. It had become the industrial hub of the empire after its reconstruction. The workers here made all sorts of metals to power the driving workforce of the Imperial Army.

Picture it, Kvatch Cyrodill Fourth Era, Year 366, and then me, a scrawny Redguard boy of sixteen. I had short cut hair and a glowing dark skin, I didn't wear much, except for rags scrapped from outside of the castle. I was an orphan, yet a child of the Alik'r desert. Born to two farmers, I remembered early days of playing with my siblings and walking through the barren desert plains. This, of course, was before the slavers came. Argonian slavers came to my home, burned my village and took the survivors as slaves. I was separated from my family that day, only to never see them again. I was taken to Gideon, an Argonian port city, lush with greenery and slaves, the Empire made no attempt to subdue these slavers. I served the Count of Gideon for nine years until I managed to escape. So here I am, Kvatch; there was nothing for me in Hammerfell anyway.

After a while I snuck out of the alleyway and into the open city streets. It was night as the full moon rose as the background of the city. I walked through the town square, with the statue of the Hero of Kvatch looming over me. He had saved the Empire and Kvatch nearly four centuries ago. Finally, at the end of town lay a brown wooden building, the sides old and rotting. I walked inside only to find a lively pub with music, mead, and more. All sorts of figures hung around in shady taverns such as this: the soldiers, criminals, drunken husbands, and more. In the corner of my eye I spotted a short, middle-aged, Imperial man hunched over with a mug of beer in his hand. As I came closer, the scent of alcohol was drenching the man. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked dazed as he turned his head towards me.

"D'ya have it. Boy," he said gruffly. I passed him the coin purse. "Here's your share," said the man as he passed me 20 coins on the table. I did not know his identity, but I knew he was a Thieves Guild member, offering me further protection from slavers for a share of my steals every day. I hadn't been caught yet, but there was no use taking risks. I walked over to the bar and reposed on top of the stool.

"I'm assuming potatoes and mead," said Hilde, the bartender, as she wiped up the counter.

"You got it," I said, passing her 5 coins. While waiting for my meal, I overheard a conversation held by two imperial soldiers, stopping by at the inn.

"Have you heard the news?" said one.

"Yes, the general arrested some spies, hasn't he?" the other inquired.

"Yes, them Akaviri spies landed in Morrowind last weekend, on a fishin' boat!"

"The general plans to interrogate them."

"I see. D'ya know that some Redguard and Orc prisoners were moved here this morning?"

"Yea. A whole shipment of former slaves are about to be sent to the Imperial City, as gladiators."

That single line struck me. What if my parents were there? My siblings? Anybody? It had been years but I still hadn't given up hope. I had to get into the keep.

That night, after a wholesome supper, I thought about the keep. I thought about my family. I thought about the sandy dunes of the Alik'r. There was a chance that they could be in there, and I wasn't going to miss it. Later that night, the guards had fallen asleep near the dungeon doors. Their heads rested on the walls, their bodies wrapped in a blanket. I was familiar with pickpocketing, but never a guard. I had to; I had to take the chance. I quietly crept towards a guard and slid the keys right out of his belt, easy enough.

I unlocked the dungeon doors quietly, and walked cautiously through the room. It smelt of hay, alcohol, and manure, all of which were littered throughout cells and tables. The majority of the prisoners were Redguards, and they were mostly all asleep. I did a face check with nearly every prisoner;, sadly, however, none of my family members were present there. "Arghhh!" I thought to myself, "How could I be so stupid! Out of the slight chance my family was there, why did I take it?" Finally, I walked towards the last cell. A solemn, middle-aged Orc sat leaning against his cell wall. He seemed tired and had cuts over his body. He had a dark green skin tone, and both his legs and arms were chained together. Unnknowingly, I felt a sense of pity for this Orc. An older prisoner probably brought here by force. He was awake it seemed, as his eyes flittered and made a low grunting noise. Before I knew it, I had opened the cell door and freed the Orc's hands and legs.

"You'll be fine," I whispered. I still didn't know why I felt sympathy for this Orc. I had seen many atrocities during my 17 year-old lifespan on Nirn. Slaves burned, beaten, tortured, yet I couldn't quite figure out this sympathy. Just as I had released the cuffs, I heard a loud SMASH on the door. The guards had re-entered!


	2. Chapter 2: A New Beginning

"Stop right there citizen!" shouted one guard drawing his sword, "what do you have to say for yourself!" Overcome with a surge of heroism, I grabbed an iron sword that rested against the stone wall.

"NEVER!" I shouted as I ran towards them. And just then, it seemed like a miracle happened. One guard threw down his longsword as I easily parried his attack and stabbed him in the chest. As the second guard looked in shock, I threw the sword like a dart, impaling him right in the head. "W-What h-happened?" I questioned myself. The orc was now wide awake along with the other prisoners. A loud chaos of screaming occurred, as prisoners screamed and shouted, alerting all the guards in the city. "Quick, let's run!" I said to the Orc. We rushed outside only to find a garrison of guards standing right outside .

"Well, well, well, what do we have here," said the head of the guard, a slimy Altmer. "Looks like someone thinks they are the talk of the town… ARREST THEM!" At that moment I thought we were truly done for, my whole life flashed between my eyes, until…..

"FUS RO DAH!" the Orc shouted. A great blue ball of force erupted from him. In a millisecond all the soldiers were flung back nearly twenty feet. "Let's run!" he said. In no time at all we were on a horse riding outside of Kvatch with a legion of soldiers running after us.

"Don't let them escape!" shrieked the High Elf. Arrows whizzed past our ears as we rode deeper and deeper into the Cyrodillic woods. Not long after, it seemed like we had lost them. Yet we were lost, lost in the deep woods outside of Kvatch. These were impenetrable forests;, nobody could get through. At this point, I was so tired that I slumped into a deep sleep as soon as I touched the cold, wet ground.

The next morning I woke up with a loud yawn as I saw the Orc cooking a skeever over a fire. I sat up almost immediately, eager to ask him some questions. "Wa- what was that sound?" I yelled. I couldn't help myself after witnessing that magic come out of his mouth.

"The Thu'um, or shout," he replied in a surprisingly clear voice. "It is a gift bestowed to us by dragons in the ancient times. I learned it for many years in a monastery called High Hrothgar." I knew about his place, the legendary home of the greybeards. I knew about the Thu'um, but had no clue that what the Orc had done was that.

"Wow…so what now?" I said. I was an impatient person.

"Slow it down boy," the Orc said. "I suppose I should tell you my story then."

"Oh please sir! Please do!"

"I was arrested for murder, specifically the murder of a high ranking person in the empire. I can't go anywhere without Imperials crawling over my back."

"Who did you…kill?"

"I killed… the Jarl of Whiterun, a count or duke, whatever you are familiar with."

"Why?"

"I grew up in an Orcish stronghold in Skyrim, never stepped out. I learned how to fight and smith of course, but never went to the outside world. That all changed when a dragon attacked my home. The strongholds' best men and I were sent to defend our home, and we successfully slew the dragon, with me striking the final blow. That night, after a toast to our victory, I was summoned by the Greybeards.

"They thought you were Dragonborn!"

"They did. But I wasn't, I hadn't received any power from the dragon whatsoever, but the Greybeards were convinced. Soon, the whole of Skyrim knew about my summoning. They couldn't believe a filthy, Daedra-worshipping Orc had been summoned!"

"Why?"

"Innocence is a gift, boy. Cherish it while you can. You see, all of the other races of Tamriel looked down on us, the mer, the men, we were no better than the Khajit or Argonians, even worse at times. Long ago even, your land of Hammerfell was ours until you invaded and stole it."

"I'm sorry, for whatever it's worth."

"T'was a while ago, no need to apologize. Anyway, the threats grew worse and worse until a band of Nords burnt down our home. I was eighteen and the only survivor, but I had to make my way up to High Hrothgar. When I reached my destination, the Greybeards cursed themselves for jumping to conclusions, yet they felt pity for me. Anyways they decided to train me."

"Wow! For how long?"

"You are quite the enthusiast. I trained for ten years in the way of the Voice, and mastered it by the age of twenty- eight. They called me a prodigy for one not the Dragonborn. Eventually, they asked me if I wanted to become a permanent Greybeard, but I knew my destiny lay somewhere else, so I denied the offer. They were furious with me, and I was banished from their fortress."

"What happened next?"

"I wanted to see Tamriel. I wanted to see the glory and beauty of the provinces, and travel through the various environments. I thought the best job for this was a bodyguard. I became a bodyguard for a messenger of the emperor. I went to every capital of every province., I worked there for nearly twenty years, until I was summoned again by the Greybeards."

"What did they say?"

"They had overcome their fury, but had a new mission for me. They sensed that a dark storm was approaching, fast: something that would engulf Tamriel and spit it out, a shell of its former self. They tasked me with finding the evil in its infancy and destroying it. So I went to the Jarl of Whiterun, and requested troops to help me on my journey. He laughed and called me a heretic, and even after four months of persuasion, he continued to mock me and the Orcish race. Finally I had enough; I challenged him to a duel. With one blast of Thu'um I destroyed him, similar to Ulfric Stormcloak and High King Torryg. The government refused to accept it as a challenge, and convicted me of murder. I ran all the way from Whiterun to Skingrad, until they finally imprisoned me in Kvatch. And so I must thank you, boy, for releasing me , so I can continue my quest."

"Wow…You have a detailed past."

"Indeed, and you know what boy? I saw you fight;, you fight bravely. The Redguards are the most powerful of warrior races in Tamriel. You could be very powerful someday. So, I offer you two choices. One, I could drop you off in any city of your choosing, where you would live as a street rat. Or, you could join me. What do you say?" said the Orc, his hand outstretched.

"I want to join you, and I thank you for this kindness," I replied. "What is your name?"

"Morg-Gro Shakk," he responded in a booming and proud voice. "What about you, my young friend?"

"Bond, James Bond" (Just Kidding)

"Vazir Redcloak."


	3. Chapter 3: The Discovery

For the many weeks that followed, Morg and I hid out in an old troll cave near Bruma. It was spacious and cold, but I will always remember it as the birthplace of my training. We trained for hours, with Morg teaching me various arts of battle, such as two- handed weapons, one handed weapons, shielding, and more. My favorite battle style was easily one-handed, it came natural to me. Morg had called me a prodigy in the warriors art with a chuckle, yet I could sense he wasn't joking. After the vicious winters of northern Cyrodill ended, we decided to finally venture out into our main quest, discovering the evil.

"I have a friend," said Morg. "He lives in the High Court of Daggerfall, in High Rock."

"How can he help us?" I questioned.

"He and I met many years ago in Elsweyr, where the Khajit civil war was just beginning to start. He is a great researcher on Aedra, Daedra, and the many immortal beings. He could help us start our quest, give us some leads."

"So, shall we go!"

"Yes, we will leave in three days, my bounty has dwindled, and many of the guards think I am dead. But still, we will have to travel silently, under the guise of other names."

"Shouldn't be a problem for me, you are the only person that I have told my real name."

In the days that followed, we packed up and headed to the docks of Anvil, the closest city to Kvatch. We would take a sea route to High Rock, avoiding the areas of Skyrim where Morg would be most noticed. Our ship was named "The "Hou'Tla Lish", in the language of the Argonians, that meant "The Voyager. We paid a steep fine to the Argonians that ran this ship, as we were to travel as refugees, undocumented.

"Moku' ista hoba' lakis." I said as I walked on to the ship, this was Argonian for, "The winds are rough today, aren't they?"

"You speak Argonian?" a crew member hissed with surprise.

"Yes, I learned from my time there, " I responded, in perfect Argonian.

As the crew members and I had a conversation, Morg stood there perplexed, unsure of what to make of the strange, hissing language of the lizards. During our talk, the boat sailed off, into the windy mists of the sea.

Later that night, Morg and I crept into a small cabin for us. It was highly cramped, with just enough space for Morg to put his head underneath the doorway.

"I have a surprise for you, Vazir," hushed Morg in a gruff tone. "Tommorow, you will take your first steps into learning how to shout. I was stunned; I had no idea that I would ever get to learn how to do such a magical power. Still, I would not let my eager nature get ahead of me.

"I thank you for your kindness," I responded. "I will use what you teach wisely."

"Showing some respect eh!" Morg chuckled. "Not usually like you! Anyways, get some sleep, we need energy for the training session tomorrow. That night I slept peacefully.

The next morning, I awoke to Morg dressed in an old grey robe. "Follow me," he said quietly. He led me to the deck, where it was still dark; the sun had not risen yet. "You need to be at peace to learn this, he said." I took a deep breath and focused all my attention on Morg. "The first word of the most basic shout is _Fus_ which means "force" in the dragon language." He marked the deck with the dragon letters. He then opened his arms and let a sharp force push through my body from his, like a strong wind. I staggered back for a second, but then stood straight. "You must feel the word resonate in your mind and feel its power flow through your blood before you can use it."

"FUS!" I shouted. Nothing happened. I had just made myself clear to the crew that I was a fool. I looked down sadly as I wasn't able to pull it off like I had done with weaponry.

"There is no way you could have pulled it off," chuckled Morg. "It took me 2 months before I could utter a single word. Let's go back." For the rest of the voyage I practiced my shout, but no luck happened to me. Morg said that he could not give me tips, and that it would just come one day. Finally, we reached Daggerfall.

My first impression of Daggerfall was of awe, it was a styles of city I had never seen before. Kvatch was a spread out and structured city, along with many other cities in Cyrodill. Daggerfall had the perfect mix of human and elvish architecture, with rising stone towers, and pouring waterfalls from mountains nearby. Hawkers sold their products in carts below the massive buildings. Surges of people walked the streets and loud bells rang from the distance. As I stepped from the boat to the cobblestone street, I knew that this would begin a new chapter of my life.

"We need to get to the Quranah district," said Morg. "That is where my friend decided to stay." We walked past the cobblestone streets to a more dirty looking environment, filled with khajit refugees. It was dark here, and filled with trash of all sorts. Finally, we came upon a wooden structure, with iron bars instead of doors. Morg stepped up to the iron doors and rattled one bar lightly. Almost instantly, an old Breton man dressed in a cloak came to the door.

"Morg-Gro-Shakk? Is that really you?"

"Yes Baranvir, it has been a long time."

"Well, come in then!"

The small shack that we walked in on was little more than racks of books containing stories of the gods. "Come in sit down," Baranvir said as he pushed away books and tables while looking for chairs. In time, we were all sitting on stools talking.

"What brings you to Daggerfall?" questioned Baranvir.

"A prophecy, said by the greybeards" answered Morg.

For the next hour, we discussed the meaning and where we could find any leads on the situation.

"You are lucky, my friends," exclaimed Baranvir. "You happen to be in the same province as the mythical Dirreni Tower, the first building to ever be created in Tamriel. I can send you on a ship. Yet, you must know, nobody has ever been able to step inside that tower."

"We will find a way," I said.

The next morning we had awoken and were ready to travel to the Isle of Balfiera, where the tower was located. Legend said it was the first structure to be created by the Aedra on Mundus(the mortal realm). Soon later, we had reached the small island, which had been abandoned after its Elvish overlords left the Isle years ago. It was barren, just a large field of grass in the Iliac Bay. We came to the large tower that overshadowed the Isle soon enough. It was a huge building made of stone that was unrecognizable, and had red tips to the top. We walked closer, near the entrance of a steelish looking door. Morg tried to open it, but he couldn't. Then, I tried, and miraculously it opened. Showing a dark hall filled with stone pillars.

"Go on," said Morg. "This part is your role to play in this prophecy." And so I did, inside the building was a huge emptiness, nothing in the interior. Normally, the tower did not allow anybody inside, yet, I had been the only mortal to ever be able to enter it for the first time in recorded history. I looked around, and there seemed nothing, but then suddenly, a loud shaking erupted from the bowels of the tower. I stumbled, but grabbed on to a pillar which I held tightly for dear life. Then, the unimaginable happened. A red transparent spirit-wind twirled around me until it took the form of a red, shadowy dragon. It grew in size until it had reached the top of the tower. Then it muttered the words that would change my life forever.

"Greetings mortal. I am Akatosh."


	4. Chapter 4: Conversation With Akatosh

Authors Note: Really sorry that this chapter is extremely short, however, this is the most important chapter so far, so i wanted to give it extra attention and not make it larger. The plot is revealed here, thanks, and enjoy your read!

"Greetings mortal. I am Akatosh."

"A-a-akatosh!" I shouted.

"Mortal, or should I say, Vazir Redcloak," said Akatosh, in a booming voice that echoed off the bare walls. I had no clue what to say, here I was, speaking to a divine itself, a god.

"I am honored t-t-o me-meet you Akatosh," I said kneeling, I couldn't regain my composure.

"You will play a piece into what will change Tamriel forever. You are The Converger, and will be the first in recorded history. You will reshape Nirn's history as you know it."

"I will? No it can't be! I am a mere boy."

"Power comes in many shapes and sizes, don't be a fool to disregard yours."

"So what is it you'll have me do, Akatosh," I said glaring at his shadowy dragon form.

"You see boy, you mortals have recorded time into eras, many years for mortals. But, you must know that time revolves around ages, many thousands of mortal years. At the end of this age, a Converger must gather the seven Convergence Elder Scrolls, and take them to Mount Korrosk in Akavir, the tallest mountain in Nirn, and place them in the shrine present. If this is not completed, the world will fall into chaos, and after some time, the clock will be reset, resulting in the reformation of Anu and Padomay."

"Who are they?"

"They were the original creators of everything and if the Convergence is not completed in the next five years. The ages will reset to their time. The fate of Nirn is resting on you Vazir."

"I can't do this, please!"

"You must, or the world will go to waste, everything you know will cease to exist. Even I, Akatosh, will cease to exist. The Elder Scrolls are in these locations, many places man or mer may never have visited before. They are: The Harmony Scroll: Atmora, The Vengeance Scroll: Akavir, The Peace Scroll: Pyandonea, The Artifact Scroll: Dwemeris, The City Scroll: Aldmeris, The Scroll of War: Tamriel, and The Scroll of Conquer: Yokuda. These scrolls are difficult to find, but if you do not find them, prepare for chaos."

"Anything else?"

"Ah, yes. The Storm. For the first time ever, the forces of Akavir and Tamriel will fight, resulting in a worldwide conflict. It will severely hinder your expedition, but you must not give up."

"I must be able to stop this, somehow!? Right?"

"As we speak Akaviri ships are landing simultaneously, on every coast of Tamriel. You may be the converger, but you cannot shape destiny. This war will lead to heavy bloodshed and you must be prepared."

"Before you depart from Mundus, what should I do next, Akatosh."

"There were two Akaviri agents arrested in the past five months, they are being held in a prison in Solitude. Other than you, they are the only ones that know of the Converngence. The Akaviri generals prevented them from sailing to Tamriel to warn you, but they did anyway. And so, after their arrest, they feel as if their quest is lost. Go find them, and tell them of your talk with me."

"I shall, Akatosh."

As soon as I said those words, the entire building once again erupted in a massive earthquake, Akatosh disappeared and I was flung out of the building. I shot past the door and landed in a soft patch of grass. Feeling woozy, I fell unconscious. My real quest would begin soon.


	5. Chapter 5: The Sacking of Daggerfall

"Hey, wake up, Vazir, wake up."

"Ahhh," I moaned as I lifted my head from a hard mattress beneath me. As I glanced around, I realized that I was at Baranvir's shack.

"Good to see you my boy!" shouted Baranvir. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," I said as I sat up while the two others grabbed chairs, listening intently. So, I told them the long story of the Convergence, and Akatosh, and more, with each increasing detail, their faces became more and more concerned.

"So then, I wake up and find myself here…"

"Yes, I found you laying there and took you back to Daggerfall," said Morg. "We were surprised you woke up so early after we reached here, you are a short sleeper."

I looked outside the grimy glass window and realized it was night; I hadn't been knocked out till daylight.

"Well then Vazir," said Baranvir as he rose from his chair, "you've had a long day, you should have a rest."

"We'll leave for Skyrim in two days, Baranvir and I have to get some things for the journey, there are no sea routes available so we are going to have to pass High Rock on foot," said Morg, also getting up. "For now, get a good night's rest, you're going to need it." And so I did.

That night, I had a terrible nightmare. I was standing in the city of Gideon, citizens were fleeing around me as the streets below them crumbled and the water beside the streets shook and flooded them. Then, Tsaesci (snake-men of Akavir) soldiers rushed through the streets, stabbing every citizen and beheading the fleeing guards. Then, I saw my own mother being dragged through the streets by her hair, screaming in agony.

"Aaaagh!" I grumbled as I woke up, this dream was the reality to come, sadly. Morg and Baranvir had gone at night to warn the king, even though they both believed that this was Tamriel's destiny and nothing could be done. However, they were nowhere to be found this morning, as the shack was empty of them.

I looked over to the table on the left of me and saw a sweet roll, I was starving. Devouring the roll, I looked over to the bookcase, reading wasn't a hobby of mine, but I could certainly pass the time. I came upon the book, _History of the Empire v. 17_, and flipped to a random page.

_And finally, at the battle of Alinor in Fourth Era 234, Thonar Frostwind, Nordic hero and Dragonborn, defeated the Aldmeri Dominion and Thalmor. He then rose to the throne, restoring a shaky peace to the Empire. He then restored provincial status to Hammerfell and Black Marsh…_

THUD! A large rock fell through the ceiling and right in front of my feet. Suddenly I heard loud screaming noises and the whizzing of arrows. I shot a glance outside and saw huge catapults shooting a green fire at the city.

"Oh gods no," I whispered to myself. I put on my light hide armor and drew my steel sword and shield as I rushed out into the burning city.

"Somebody help me!" shouted an old Khajit woman lying on the floor with her leg eviscerated.

"I'm coming!" I shouted as I hoisted her on my back through the chaos. Rushing out of the Quarna district, I saw the city streets in chaos. Bodies were lying everywhere as the guards tried to hopelessly rush them to the hospital. Running at top speed with a weight on my back, I looked at the bay, viewing four extremely large ships, larger than largest of the Empires' ships, rush towards the docks. Green flames whizzed past me as I followed the guards to the hospital. Just then, a huge cannonball shot past the air and into a building. But then, the steel bolts enclosing the ball tore apart, as five tall monkeys dressed in full iron armor rushed out.

"The Tang-Mo," I thought to myself. I knew the Akaviri would invade, but not now, not here. If there was one thing I could tell you about that moment, it would be summed up in one word- speed. They fought like no one had ever seen before; they wielded iron poles, with what looked like blades sticking out from the sides. The blades whizzed through the air with the monkeys almost dancing around the guards, stabbing them in many places. One guard managed to strike a monkey in the heart, yet that one had taken out three before him.

I tried to defend myself as one monkey pranced around me; he hopped around on his pole, and with great flexibility, struck me in the foot. "Aargh!" I shouted. He had hit me with the blunt of his rod, so it didn't hurt as much as a blade. "HYAA!" I screamed in response as I parried his next attack and stabbed him in the heart. If there was one thing these monkeys lacked, it was a good defense. The Khajit woman on my back was still a heavy load, but she had fallen unconscious since. Still, I rushed over to the next monkey and sliced his head off. The third one rushed towards me but I slashed his leg and proceeded to stab him in the chest. I breathed heavily as the bodies surrounding me lay motionless, yet the chaos continued. I continued running and finally reached the hospital. Medics were rushing the injured inside while trying to dodge arrows.

"I have one!" I yelled, over the noise of the battle.

"Bring er' in!" a medic shouted.

I laid down the body on a mattress as two medics carried the woman in. I still wasn't finished; I had to find Morg and Baranvir. I ran away from the hospital and towards another street that led to the palace. That was the only place they could be. I joined a team of guards as they rushed into the street with me.

"What is the casualty count?" I shouted as I ran with them.

"Close to forty percent of the city dead…." he said. "That's nearly four thousand."

Cutting a sharp corner, we reached the magnificent castle. It stood up high on a cliff, meaning we would have to climb stairs to get there. Just before we stepped on, a huge, nearly ten foot white beast jumped from a pedestal nearby. It was covered in thick white hair from head to toe, dressed in some kind of black-stone armor, and wielding a very large hammer. "A Kamal, or snow demon," I thought. All of the guards stepped back, as it threatened us in an unknown language.

"Har' us ika bara wea nis a go' ko!" it shouted. It then jumped into the battle slamming its hammer on an unfortunate guard who splattered into bits.

"For Tamriel!" I shouted, drawing my sword.

"For Tamriel!" shouted the guards.

Running into battle, I sliced the Kamal in its thick leg. It barely flinched! The rest of the guards tried to cut it, but its' skin seemed impenetrable to our swords. The beast swung its hammer in an arc, which created some sort of force which we were all thrown back. "RAAAA!" it screamed, smashing the soldiers to bits with its hammer. I had just gotten up as the beast rushed towards me; I ducked under its huge pair of legs as it jumped over me. It was at the edge of a cliff leading in to a gorge, this was my chance! I felt the blood rush through my veins as I concentrated, the sound resonating in my mind, the voice shaking inside me!

"FUS!" I shouted. The ball of blue force struck the Kamal, throwing him down the cliff. I shot up the stairs like a lightning bolt, determined to reach inside.

When I reached the top, the door was locked. I shook it furiously but the steel door wouldn't budge. "FUS!" I shouted again, as the doors opened. Inside was a huge open area made of stone, in the center was a large pedestal, with what seemed like two figures battling. I rushed up the stairs, only to find the King of High Rock dead, with Morg and Baranvir fighting off two Tsaesci warriors with black chain armor and blue, enchanted swords. They looked interesting to say the least. The top half of their body was almost like a man's, they had heads, but possessed a skin flap extending down from the head. They had two arms and a chest all green in color, but below that, they possessed a snake-like body, with a massive tail they slithered upon. Their armor however, was nothing man or mer had ever seen. Due to their ever changing lower snake body, they had armor that seemed to move with them, every slither that they would take, the armor would change shape to best fit their current position. "Hyah!" shouted Morg, slashing the snake's head off. Baranvir looked like he was having trouble, throwing lightning bolts and fire bolts wildly at the approaching snake. Just before the snake's sword ended Baranvir for good, I intervened.

"FUS!" I shouted again. The snake fell off balance, and Baranvir shot it with a frost bolt to its face.

"S-s-s-s-s-aaaaa!" it shrieked before it fell.

"Vazir, thank god you're alive!" said Morg in happiness.

"We almost thought we lost you!" said Baranvir.

"You can shout now! Impressive," said Morg once again. "Anyways, there is a path leading outside this god-forsaken city, its high time we leave, I will tell you the story once we are safe."

"Sounds good to me," I said.


	6. Chapter 6: Our Strange Journey to Skyrim

After the sacking of Daggerfall, we all had escaped through a secret pass in the palace. We grabbed horses nearby and proceeded to ride away, with a burning city in the background. During this time, Morg and Baranvir told their story.

"We reached the palace before you woke up, and warned the king of the impending attack," said Baranvir. "He called us heretics, and fools, and demanded that we leave the palace."

"Just before we were about to leave, Ka'Po'Tun (tiger warriors) and Tsaesci warriors attacked us, the king was killed as well as his guards. We were the last left," said Morg with a dark voice. A darker voice than I had ever heard before.

"There is no time to waste," Morg said again. "We must get as far as we can before nightfall." We rode the rest of the time in silence, not wishing to discuss the horrors that had just occurred. Outside of Daggerfall, the rest of visible High Rock was a large plain, with snowcapped mountains surrounding it. Finally, we reached a small unnamed village, with small wooden and straw huts. As we approached the residents stood up and drew their swords.

"Halt!" shouted a young Breton man. "You aren't helping them snakes are ya!" I looked around from the top of my horse, Tsaesci and Breton bodies were strewn around the village grounds.

"No, but Daggerfall has been sacked," said Morg. "The bitter truth is that a massive invasion will occur, including the permanent destruction of your little village here."

"Don't talk foolish!" said the man. "Daggerfall could have never been sacked by any force, you filthy Orc. Don't tell lies, you daedra worshipping scum!"

"VEN GAR NOS!" shouted Morg. The Breton flew backwards, trapped in a cyclone, before slamming against a hut.

"RAHHH!" shouted the rest of the villagers as they drew their swords and magic.

"Stop you fools!" shouted Baranvir as the villagers put their weapons down. "As another Breton, you can trust my word, Daggerfall was indeed sacked."

The villagers began to whisper amongst themselves until a conclusion was made. "You can stay at the tavern tonight," said an old man. "Anyone who brings us such important news requires a meal and a good rest. Come inside," he said, pointing a finger at the inn.

We followed the old villagers inside, and before I entered, I saw the man Morg had shouted at wiping blood off his face and giving me an ugly look. The inn was quiet, as it was very late at night, and the villagers had just fought off the Akaviri. We were given some potatoes and a meat dish, and then given our rooms. There was an eerie sense to this town, and I didn't like it.

I couldn't sleep that night, for every time I closed my eyes all I saw were the bodies. The bodies; strewn, chopped, cut; it was terrible. "I need to get some fresh air," I thought. So I lit a candle, wore my armor and sword, and walked up to the door and quietly opened as to not disturb others. What I saw outside was terrifying.

The man who Morg had shouted at was standing right there, in the middle of the village. He was wearing light armor, and drew a sword from one hand, and had flames in the other. "Get out of my way you piece of shit!" he said quietly but sharply.

"What are you doing?" I said calmly.

"That son-of-a-bitch Orc insulted my honor! He deserves to die, by my hand! Then I will do the same to you and that old wizard." I had a surge of aggressiveness there, and I wasn't proud of what I did next.

I drew my sword and replied, "You want to fight! I can take you! No one will ever touch my master!"

"You filthy Redguard! You think you can take a full grown, trained man. Your arrogance will get the best of you!"

He sprinted towards me and lashed his flames out, nearly skimming my face. He jumped and drew his sword; his blade interlocking with mine. I drew my sword back, and attempted to slash him. He dodged and we had a series of parries and blocks with each other, neither of us gaining the upper hand. By this time, some of the villagers had started to wake, and watch our battle from their windows.

"HYAH!" I said as I jumped, striking my blade at his neck.

"Argh!" he shouted, falling down to his knees. I proceeded to finish him off. SLICE! I cut his head off with a slash of a blade. The villagers stood there shocked for a minute, and then shouted, drawing their swords and magic.

Morg and Baranvir rushed out, dressed in full armor. "What happened!" shouted Morg.

"I killed that man, and now they've gone hostile!"

"There is no time, we have to go!" said Baranvir.

"OD AH VIING!" shouted Morg.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a red skinned dragon appeared, and landed on the village ground.

"YOL!" it shouted as a red-hot flame erupted from its gaping jaws. The villagers staggered back and then proceeded to run.

"Good to see you Morg-Gro-Shakk!" said the dragon.

"It is good to meet again, Odahviing," replied Morg. "Quick get on his back!"

Even though I was absolutely terrified, I climbed up on its scaly back, which then shook violently as Odahviing took off into the sky.

In the next hours on that dragon, I was absolutely terrified. Baranvir seemed calm, reading a book, as the sharp winds of High Rock sliced at us and our clothing. Sometimes, we would go so high as to not see the ground. This absolutely terrified me, as I grabbed on to a dragon scale for dear life. All the while, Morg and Odhaviing spoke in the language of the dov, or dragon. It seemed to shake the world, it carried power in its words. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, we landed in the early morning hours, in what seemed like a long plain.

"We had an interesting _tinvaak (conversation) _Morg-Gro-Shakk," said Odhaviing in a deep, ancient voice.

"I thank you for saving our lives," said Morg in return.

"I sense a dark storm approaching as well," said Odhaviing. "Stay safe on your travels. I have dropped you off on the Northern Reach, Skyrim. The town known as Dragon Bridge, is north, maybe a three hours walk from here."

"We shall, and thank you."

Odhaviing lifted his great red wings off the ground, creating dust waves from the enormous force it took to levy that massive body off the ground, and flew off. "There's no time to waste," said Baranvir. "We must get to Dragon Bridge as fast as we can. We don't want an encounter with the Forsworn."

"Who are the Forsworn?" I inquired.

"The madmen of the Reach," replied Morg in a grim voice. "Mindless savages that hunt any that pass through the Reach, which they claim is their land stolen by the Nords. They once succeeded in capturing Markarth for two years, during the Great War, but were quickly put down. They have been waging war since."

"Wow!" I exclaimed, excited at the news.

"Don't be excited boy, they aren't some worthless bandits. They don't take loot, or prisoners," Morg said in a stunning voice. It silenced the talk among us, and we kept walking through the plains. Skyrim was unlike any land I had seen, unlike High Rock, the mountains were nearly two times as tall, and the plains were hilly, barren of trees. They seemed to roll on forever, with forts and camps visible from a distance.

We walked for another hour or so, when we started noticing signs. A few skeletons laid on the ground here and there, an we saw a spiky wooden looking sword, that Morg thought belonged to the Forsworn. It finally reached a breaking point when we heard a rustling noise from a nearby cave.

"Huh? What was that?!" said Baranvir.

"I don't know, keep your eyes peeled," replied Morg. Before he could talk anymore three figures jumped behind us, wielding primitive looking weapons and fur clothing. They were the Forsworn, and they looked like savages.

"Hyah!" I shouted, rushing towards them with my sword ready. I slashed at one, but he quickly parried and sent another strike, which I blocked with my shield. "These were no bandits," I thought. They knew how to fight, and how to kill. The three of us fought the Forsworn, neither of gaining the upper hand, until Morg shouted at one, and finished him with a slash.

Surprisingly, more Forsworn jumped in from surrounding areas. Morg fiercely cut down many, only to be replaced by more and more. Barnavir had cut a few down, and I had been fighting the same one.

"HYAH! HYAH!" I yelled, as I delivered two strikes to his chest. The man kneeled down for second, blood pouring from his chest, but then without any shouting, he got back up, sword drawn.

"H-How?" I stuttered, shocked at his action. Then I realized, he wasn't alive after all. He had a skull on, a deer's skull. But the most shocking thing was, his chest. He had a visible heart from the outside, but the skin on top of it was poorly stitched together. It was a Briar heart! I had seen these when I traveled to Cyrodill from Black Marsh! Some sort of ritual had been done to create this… abomination.

"RAHHH!" he screamed as he again attempted to strike me with the butt of his blade. I blocked it, and thrust my hand into his chest, pulling out the bloody heart out with my own hands. Without making a sound, the Forsworn simply fell to the ground, dead.

At that moment, four other Forsworn joined the fight, leaving us fully outnumbered. We stepped backwards, our backs resting of a rock.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" screamed a Forsworn loudly.

"Do it," said Morg. The sounds of swords and shields clattered the ground when we dropped our weapons.

"KNEEL DOWN SO WE CAN CUT YOUR FILTHY HEADS OFF!" shouted the Forsworn again.

Just as we thought we were done for, an arrow struck the shouting Forsworn's neck. He stumbled to the ground. The other Forsworn looked around in confusion, but a steel arrow met all of them in their throats. Suddenly, we were all alone; no Forsworn remained to fight us. Appearing behind us, a tall, slim, beautiful, Nord girl, with war paint on her face, and a bow slung over her shoulder appeared. She stuck a friendly hand out towards me.

"Hello, I'm Danica Bjaldsen, and I just saved your life."


	7. Chapter 7: Solitude

"H-H-Hello?" I said nervously putting my hand out. She shook it with force, and hardiness. I was shocked, I didn't really know how to act around girls. She was beautiful, that was the first emotion that came to me. She seemed around my age, seventeen or sixteen.

"Are you okay?" she questioned. I fixed my nervous face and cooled down.

"Yea. Yea. Sorry I'm fine," I replied calmly.

"We thank you for your kindness, Danica," said Morg humbly.

"It's not a problem, I was just passing by while hunting for deer, and then I saw you fighting Forsworn. I regularly hunt in the Reach, so killing Forsworn is like an everyday thing for me," she said with an air of confidence. "They've even taken to calling me "The Beast". Haha! So, where are travelers like you headed to?"

"Dragon's Bridge, and then Solitude," I replied, much more to my senses while talking.

"I see, anyways, you're heading the wrong direction!" she said with a chuckle, you're traveling south towards Markarth. I can show you the way."

"That would be most kind," said Baranvir. From a bag slung over her shoulder, she grabbed a roll of parchment, which seemed to have a map on it.

"Let's see, if you're going to Dragon's Bridge, you might as well head on the full way to Solitude, it's not far off. Or, we can camp at another town called Ivarstead for tonight. Your choice."

"We don't have much time, we need to go to Solitude," said Morg.

"Ok, then let's go off!" said Danica

Danica knew the Reach like the back of her hand. She stole us horses from a farm without the farmers knowing, then led us to Solitude much faster than we thought. She knew where every single Forsworn camp was, and the traps and pitfalls along the way, guiding us to safety.

"We are here, the magnificent Solitude!" she said again, chuckling. It was a great city, but not near anywhere as large as Daggerfall. It was built on a cliff that extended out of a mountain, and seemed to have a large dock and bay, yet dwarfed by the size of Daggerfall's. We walked down along a cobblestone passageway that led up to the gates of the city. The air was crisp and cold, and the night sky was upon us. It had taken us close to seven hours to get to Solitude from the Reach. As we approached the gates, a guard stopped us.

"Is that you, you, Danica!" shouted the guard. "What are you doing outside the city? Get inside now! The Jarl needs to see you!"

As the guard grabbed her and dragged her inside, she shouted back, "Don't worry I'll be okay."

"What's going on?" I asked Morg.

"I don't know but I don't like it," said Morg with an ugly face.

The guard came back after a minute, then addressed us," The city is closed to outsiders; you'd better have a damn good reason if you want to enter!"

"Why is it closed?" questioned Baranvir.

"Don't you know?" the guard began in a thick Nord accent, "Akaviri ships have been pounding at the Sea of Ghosts and our bay for a day now! The city is safe because we got a message from the Imperial cliff racers (during the rule of Emperor Thonar Frostwind, cliff racers were domesticated to send fast messages over long distances) that Daggerfall had been sacked. All coastal cities were required to defend. And sure enough, mere hours after the message, large Akaviri ships attacked our bay. We're holding off for now, but more troops are coming from Cyrodill as well as other holds. We should be fine, but Emperor Erikur has declared a total war state against Akavir. This is going to be a long an' bloody war."

After the long story he told, he gazed in the mist of the bay, enveloped in his deep thought. We just thought he looked like an idiot.

"Excuse me, hello?" I said, trying to get his attention.

"Oh sorry, he said again in his thick accent."

"So are you going to let us in?"

"No, of course not! The city is off... Aaaaaalll," slurred the guard as a purple light surrounded him. He then regained his composure and said ,"Of course good sirs! Step right in! " exclaimed the guard pushing the door open.

"Thank you good guard," said Baranvir, strolling in as if nothing had happened. Morg also walked in casually, and my jaw dropped.

"Whoa, whoa! What happened!?" I shouted as we stepped in.

"A little illusion magic," said Baranvir with a chuckle. "He'll forget all about our little experience."

Inside, the city was full of life. It was the early hours of the night, citizens leaned against wooden buildings, drinking, singing and having a merry time. Majority of the city was comprised of stone buildings and paths, not necessarily organized into districts. It was a small city, for the capital of a province.

"We should get to the King, see if we can persuade him to see the prisoners," said Morg. We walked down the stone paths seeing castles and expensive buildings along the way. Morg and Baranvir clearly knew their way around the city, walking a certain path.

In not long, we reached the palace, it was dwarfed by the size of Daggerfall's and seemed only the size of a wealthy man's house. Nevertheless, there were no guards present at the door, so we walked inside.

Inside lay staircases leading to an upper platform, as well as several doors and corridors to the left and right of where we were standing. The whole place seemed to be made of stone, typically Nordic architecture.

We walked up the stone stairs to find High King Hronthar scolding, Danica!

"Why must you run! Don't you find it safe at home here! It could be dangerous out there with them snake-men and monkeys running around! Don't you feel home at solitude!"

"Papa," Danica started. She was the High King's daughter! "I love the wilderness, and the adventure! I love to fight and forage! Not to sit in an old palace rotting away, waiting to get married to a Jarl or an Imperial officer! That is not my kind of life!"

"I am done talking about this Danica, now get out and go to your quarters!" signaled the king with two fingers. Danica walked out, an angry look on her face as she passed us and disappeared into another corridor. "Oh I'm sorry," said the king

looking at us. "Now please state your business."

"Vazir, leave," whispered Baranvir. "We'll take care of this. I stepped down from the stairs, walked into a corridor and leaned against a wall, waiting for their business to finish. I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, but it sounded like a rash argument. Just before my curiosity was about to force me to start eavesdropping, Danica came out of a door to my left.

She was dressed in a flashy red dress with white edges, her dark blond hair combed neatly resting on her shoulders and back, and her war paint washed off her face. She was absolutely, and no doubt about it, the most beautiful woman I had seen in my life. In all this confusion, I didn't realize I was staring.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked for the second time today.

"Ahghgh...y-y-yea," I muttered, struck by her beauty.

"So tell me," she said leaning on the same wall beside me. "What is it you are up to?"

"W-what are you talking about?!" I exclaimed, it was obvious I was trying to lie.

"Oh come on," it has to be something. "What is it? Empire business? Some sort of adventurer quest? Searching for money?"

"Okay, Okay, you got me," I said admitting defeat. "So it all started when..." And so I told her the story of how I was traded into slavery, escaped, rescued Morg, my conversation with Akatosh, the Sacking of Daggerfall, and more.

She remained silent for a second, then burst out into full laugher. "You..the converger!? You talked to AKATOSH! You can barely even hold a conversation!" she exclaimed.

"Please I'm not lying," I said solemnly. "If you want to find out the truth, you need to get me into Castle Dour dungeons, because I need to see those prisoners."

"Haha I doubt it, but if Morg and Baranvir can't convince my father I'll take you there."

"Thanks." At that moment, Morg and Baranvir stepped down from from the upper floor and I left Danica.

"What happened?" I asked.

"The King considers it, yet he needs more proof, I didn't tell him about the prophecy." said Morg.

"We will go him tomorrow and talk to him again," said Baranvir.

"What! No! We need to speak to them today! Those prisoners are invaluable!" I exclaimed

"We have time," said Morg. "Slow down, don't get ahead of yourself."

"So what? Are you just going to talk to him and hope for the best! Remember what happened at Whiterun?"

"Don't be a fool Vazir! There is no other way!" At this point our conversation had turned into a loud argument, with the servants watching.

"There is another way," I said softly, whispering into Morg's ear. "We can break in and steal them!"

"Vazir, I am not some kind of a bandit to do that!"

"I saved your life by breaking into the Kvatch prisons!"

"You know what Vazir! Not everyone is a dirty street rat like you! Not everyone grew up without any principles or morals! Not everyone is fine with stealing, pickpocket, or acting like a dirty little bastard!" Morg sharply retorted.

At that point, I felt done. Done with Morg and chivalrous behavior, I stormed right out of the palace without saying a word. "Vazir wait!" Morg tried to shout, but I was long gone.

I stormed into the streets and found a small corner; I laid my back and sat against it, rethinking all that had just happened. I was never going to talk to Morg again, until Danica, in her simple leather armor, but no war paint, approached me.

"So Vazir, about those prisoners.." she started.

"You can take me to them?" I questioned.

"Yes but first lets…" she tried again.

"Good! Let's go! I don't need Morg!" I interrupted.

"Ok then!" she said surprisingly. We walked down the same stone path to the Palace, but instead Danica went around the stone columns around the palace, which led to a small door. A guard was stationed there, but he looked barely awake.

"Hralvir, can I have the key please?" she asked politely. Almost zombielike, the guard stretched out his hand with the steely key dangling from his fingers. "Thank you," she said and snatched the key from his hands. She unlocked the door without any resistance from the guard and walked in. The prisons here were much different than Cyrodill's. They were more spread out, and had much more room for prisoners to wander around in. The prisoners were few and far between, and I only saw one other prisoner, an old Nord with a black eye. Danica led me all the way to the end of the cells, and there sat two, strange looking figures.

They were both human males sure enough, but had far different features than a Nord, Imperial, Breton, or Redguard. They had pale yellow to light brown skin, long thin eyes, and prominent cheekbones. They each sported a small beard as well. They were both sitting on stools in their cell, conversing in an entirely unknown language. When they heard our footsteps, they turned at us. They gave Danica an ugly look, but then their look at me changed everything.

"Ta'gura Niseyo!" one shouted.

"Man'urtaki Hateyo Niseyo!" shouted the other one. They both immediately bent down on their knees, hands raised to the sky.

"Niseyo, is that you!" said the more muscular one in heavily accented Nedic (language of most humans and official language of the Empire).

"Are you the Converger?" the smaller one asked, slowly and heavily accented.

"Yes, I am the Converger. And I have come here to find you."


	8. Chapter 8: The Akaviris

**Hey guys, I am really sorry that I didn't get a chance to update these past few weeks. Unfortunately, I was quite busy with schoolwork and studying. These will be the first of the few chapters I am going to release over break, so stay tuned for much more! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Good!" the smaller of the two men replied. "We traveled so far to reach here, Tamriel, Niseyo. We were in a raft for two months until our imprisonment."

"Why do you call me Ni-se-yo?" I asked.

"It is our name for the Converger. In Akavir, the land is ruled by the four nations," he began. "The Tang-Mo, Tsaesci, Kamal, and the Ka'Po'Tun. Back in the days of what you call, the First Era, humans held a large part of Akavir in our grasp, until the Tsaesci attacked. They launched a full out invasion on us, and slaughtered the majority of us. Many of us fled to the island of Harjuko, where we come from, and where many men exist now, but even more stayed in the various territories of the other nations, working low class jobs in exchange for living."

"How do you know who I am, and why are the other nations attacking?" I asked again, wondering to know more. Danica was also patiently listening at my side.

"Usually, the four nations are at war always. Their previous invasions of Tamriel were singularly done, either the Tsaesci or the Kamal invaded. Until, they decided to band together, and destroy Tamriel's people, thus the Akaviri Empire was formed. It includes all of the nations, and just twenty years ago, the human isles were conquered as well. The reason they want to fight is for their gods. We, like you, worship the Divines, but the Akaviri Empire is a pawn of the Daedra. They wish to please their god Hutarisi' Omaku, or what you call, Mehrunes Dagon."

"Still, how do you know who I am?"

"Both of us were present on Mount Korrosk one day, during guard duty, and the day you were born, the Convergence altar shot up a light with your image. It stated that according to an Elder Scrolls Prophecy, we were the ones destined to find you. And so we prepared over many, many years. We hired a crew and ship, until the Tsaesci authorities stopped us. They knew our plan to go to Tamriel, but had no idea about the Convergence. We knew that this was the last chance we had, so we snuck on a fishing boat at night and hoped for the best. And that's how we ended up here," the man concluded.

"You've been through a lot of pain, and we must secure your release." I said. The larger of the two men rarely talked, but he sat there quietly, seeming to absorb any details of our conversation. "What are your names?" I asked.

"I am Ho-Chin-Nar, and this is my younger brother See-Lao-Nar; we are pleased to serve you, Converger," said Ho-Chin, as both he and his brother bowed.

I turned to Danica, who had listened through the whole conversation, with a worrisome look on her face. "Can you get a release on these men?" I asked her.

"Sure, I can get a "release"," she said with a chuckle. She crouched down at the old cage and pulled out a rusty lock pick from her satchel. Pushing it into the lock, she twisted and turned it until she found a release, swinging the old cell door open.

"Thank you mistress," said Ho-Chin with a bow. They had been liberated, but what to do now; where to go? Then I remembered, the first Elder Scroll: The Scroll of War, located in Tamriel.

"Have you heard of The Scroll of War?" I asked the group, who all were now standing in the old prison. I gauged the room, but there were no signs of knowledge about it.

"You could go to the College of Winterhold,"suggested Danica. "There are some knowledgeable souls that may be willing to help you."

"Never trust magic," I said almost automatically.

"What why did you say that?" she asked. I shook my head, why did I say that. Oh, that's right, my father used to tell me, never trust magic.

"Us Redguards never trust magic," I stated firmly again.

"Nords don't like it either, but we have to go."

"Fine." I stated stubbornly. I didn't like magic; Baranvir was the only mage I trusted.

"We are going to need to leave the city," said Danica. "We have to wake up Morg and Baranvir at the nearby inn, and leave as soon as we can. Once the guards find out that both the prisoners and I are gone, they are going to kill you and try to rescue me."

"Alright, but where will we go?" questioned Ho-Chin.

"We will have to sneak our way to Winterhold," said Danica. "It is a snowy and dangerous path, but we can make it."

"It's settled," I said with a more relaxed look on my face. "We leave tonight."

"You still have to apologize to Morg," Danica reminded.

"Alright," I sighed.

"We snuck out of prison, the guard still half dead outside. Walking in the crisp Solitude night, we reached the nearby inn, called the Redguard Knight. We stepped in it, and realized it was still full of life unlike the solemnly dark streets outside. A big Nord man laughed loudly, smashing his mug on the floor. Ignoring the chaos, we walked to the bartender, a redheaded Nord female with an apron on.

"How are ya' doin, wouldya' like a room!" she thundered.

"No not really," I replied. "We're looking for a small Breton man and an Orc that may or may not have checked in recently. Are they here?"

"Yes yes, they checked a few hours ago, their room is down this hall and the third door to the left," she said, signaling with her index finger.

"Thanks." We walked down the creaky hallway, and opened the door they were supposed to be in. We saw Morg sitting in his bed, and Baranvir on a stool, writing in his diary.

"Vazir," said Morg sharply, and rushed towards me. He embraced me in a strong hug. "I am so sorry, I shouldn't have said what I said. Please never run like that, I was thinking about you the whole night," said Morg happily. "Who are these, the Akaviri?"

"I am sorry as well," I started. "I shouldn't have stormed off like that in the first place. And yes, these are the Akaviri prisoners."

"I see," he said with a slightly disappointing look. "We got them anyway, beyond the law. What next?" We told Morg and Baranvir the whole story we heard from the Akaviris, and that we had to go to Winterhold.

"I see, we should leave immediately, the guards will find out about their escape soon," said Baranvir. We left that night, into the cold crisp bay near Solitude, without anybody asking us where we were going. We gave some spare light armor to the Akaviris, and Danica came with us. The darkness was upon us now, and we had to find the Scroll of War.


	9. Chapter 9: Winterhold

The icy winds of Skyrim were sharp, sharp indeed, but they were nothing compared the frost trolls that inhabited them. 'GRUUUH!" shouted a bulky white troll as it jumped towards Ho-Chin.

"Yah!" he shouted, slicing the troll's chest with his sword and then quickly changing direction, slicing its foot. The troll staggered back; blood pouring from its body. It had been a day since we left Solitude, and traversing through the icy, mountainous paths to Winterhold was a challenge. It was snowing heavily and the attack by the frost troll was slowing us down.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" shouted Morg, sending a fire towards the troll. It screamed in agony, and then slumped to the ground. We stared at its lifeless body before moving on.

"How much longer till Winterhold?" I questioned.

"Not far, we should be coming to its walls soon now." Danica replied as we trudged along the thick snow. And there it was, through a clearing, the great Winterhold.

Its walls were a high black stone that rose above the mountain that the city stood on. It had small guard towers that dotted the walls. You could see the Jarl's palace from where we were standing; a rich blue-stoned domed building. It was strange to think that just one hundred years ago Winterhold was a sleepy ghost town with a dying mage college. Thonar Frostwind, Dragonborn, and native of Winterhold, had rebuilt it.

"Wow!" I shouted in surprise, the city was a solace in the snow.

"It is indeed beautiful," said See-Lao, it was strange to hear him talk. "In Akavir, the cities are built over large areas, with small buildings connected to each other in a large complex. Our cities generally have a larger population, with your population mostly in the countryside. It is beautiful to see a small, high built stone city basking in the snow."

"Wow! You can talk!" Danica exclaimed rudely with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh let him be," said Baranvir with a chuckle. "If the man doesn't want to talk often it is his right." We walked up the stony steps that led to the city, when we approached we were stopped by the guards.

"What is your business at Winterhold?" questioned a guard.

"I'm a member of the college," Baranvir replied. "These are my friends, they will assist me with my work."

"Very well you all may enter, except you two," the guard said pointing at the Ho-Chin and See-Lao.

"Why?" I asked.

"The city is under watch regarding the recent attacks by the Tsaesci. I don't like the way these outsiders look. They seem like outsiders to me, but I can't arrest then without a warrant."

"What that's ridiculous!" I started but then was cut off by Ho-Chin's hand.

"Let it go," said Ho-Chin. "Our part in your quest is over, we will go now."

"Where? You are a stranger to this land, with no knowledge of where to go."

"We have been through far worse, we will be fine. I will give you a message when we are safe. Just go." And with those words, Ho-Chin an See-Lao trudged into the snowy forest below.

"It was for the best," said Morg. "We would've been stopped wherever they came with us."

"Are you done chit chatting or are you going to come inside?" the guard asked, now leaning against the wall, drinking a mead bottle. I nodded.

"Hralvir! Open the gate!" The black gate slowly whirred open, revealing the snowy paths of the city inside. As we entered, I was shocked at the number of refugees and poor orphans lining the streets. Old Khajit hags in hooded robes, and little children paraded around the streets, begging for money.

"Oh sir," pleaded a small Imperial girl dressed in old rags. "Please do you have a few septims to spare?" I reached in my pocket and dropped two shiny coins into her outstretched palms. "Talos guide you!" she said happily, clutching the coins and sprinting away.

"It's quite sad to see the nature of Winterhold nowadays," said Morg. "Always attracting poor folk of all kinds."

Winterhold was built very similar to Solitude, but it was made of the same black stone found in the walls. The alleyways of the city were crowded with beggars shivering in the snow and frost. It was a sickening sight indeed, to see a great city in such a low state.

We walked to a small bridge off the edge of the city. It was made of normal cobblestone, and it led to a large castle like structure. An Altmer woman stood at the entrance of the bridge, dressed in blue robes.

"Nirya..I," Baranvir started.

"Baranvir! Oh my goodness is it really you!" she screamed in surprise, running towards him. "The archmage has been expecting you. It's been almost twenty five years, where have you been? I never forgot about you."

"I just couldn't come back to the college after the... incident," Baranvir replied.

"What incident!" I said in the background, turning the attention of everyone towards me. Baranvir looked at me, then slowly hung his head down. "What incident!"

"This is not the time," Baranvir said quietly. "Let's finish our business with the college." He again hung his head, turned and started walking on top of the frosty bridge. I was just about to open my mouth again but Morg's large green hand cupped it. We followed him silently.

The college was a work of art in my opinion, even though I didn't like mages. Large columns held up a circular ring of rooms, and in the middle of the outdoor courtyard lay a statue of a wizard, along with a beam of light shooting up into the sky from a pool of water. We reached what seemed to be the entrance to a large hall when Nirya stopped us.

"Before you do what you need to do, you must all come with me to the Archmage's quarters. Baranvir and he need to have a little talk," instructed Nirya. I could see Baranvir gulp in nervousness.

We entered the hall and quickly took a flight of stairs to the left and climbed through the narrow staircase until we reached a large hall. It had a small garden in the middle, and racks of soul gems and a large bed surrounding it in a circle. A dark elf dressed in mage robes sat at a small desk in a corner. He blinked his eyes in surprise and stood up after seeing Baranvir.

"Well, well, look who we have here!" he said in a sinister tone of voice. He circled our group in slowed, delayed steps. Baranvir looked shocked, but the rest of us looked dumbfounded.

"Savos, I assure you, I have repented too much for my crimes." Baranvir spoke rushed.

"You stole valuable First-Era books and killed the librarian!"

"I have sinned by killing Urag, but it was the only way I could save myself from death at Molag-Bal's hands."

"Foolish Baranvir, you left a bloody mark on this college with your murderous acts, and your foolish dealings with Daedric princes!"

"I was young and foolish, I only dabbled in necromancy; a huge mistake Savos."

"Well, well, we still haven't officially banished you from the college, so your punishment will come later. Anyways, tell me why you have come here again with your friends."

"I need something, Savos."

"Ha! After what you did, there's no way I will ever do a favor for you!"

"All we need are books about the Elder Scrolls."

"You aren't going to touch a book from this library again, you AGHH!" An arrow pierced the back of Savos's throat and out through the front. He slumped down with a moan.

"What's going on!" Danica shouted. Just then the windows in the archmage's quarters shattered, and pieces of glass flew around the room, carried by the wind that gusted in. Four figures covered completely in black cloaks jumped through the empty space that was once the window.

"Draw your weapons!" Morg shouted. The figures ran towards us, some on two legs, and some on four. Baranvir threw fire at them and Nirya shot lightning.

"RAAA!" Morg let out a battlecry, drawing his massive battleaxe, and Danica stood back shooting arrows. The figures drew swords and daggers, and slashed at us. I drew my sword and began attacking.

"Vazir! Grab some books as quickly as you can!" Morg screamed as he blocked off an attack. I ran around the quarters and grabbed as many books as I could. _The Moth Priests, The Elder Scrolls, Dragon and Blood_; I quickly snatched them up and placed in my bag.

ARRRRRGH! I heard a high pitched scream. Running around to the scene of battle, I saw Nirya's head roll next to my foot.

"Aughh!" I shouted in disgust. Morg and Baranvir had sliced down three of the four figures, and Danica was battling one with her bow and arrow. SHFFFT! SHFFT! Two arrows snagged the black cloak of the figure, and pinned him to a bookcase. Morg and Baranvir ran towards it, and pushed the figure against the bookcase. Morg then grabbed the cowl area of the cloak, and ripped it clean off, revealing a Ka'Po'Tun inside. He was a bright bronze color with dark tattoos covering up much of his face.

"RAAH!" the Ka'Po'Tun yelled in frustration as it tried to escape the strong grip of Morg.

"Who are you? And what do you want with us?" questioned Morg.

"Stupid humans," the Ka'Po' started in a very thick accent. "Always meddling with affairs they have no place in. We have humans in Akavir you know, but pushing them to the lowest, filthy class prevented them from doing anything. They are like rats, breeding so fast, that they multiply in numbers year after year. They make great slaves you know, as they are so stupid."

"I am no man, but if you don't tell me why you are here," Morg drew a dagger from his side. "This is going to be in your throat."

"May the great Mehrunes Dagon give me strength in the afterlife!" the Ka'Po'Tun shouted, before drawing his own dagger and impaling it through his heart. He lay motionless with his steely eyes wide open.

"What do you think?" I asked Morg, confused.

"Didn't Ho-Chin mention something about how the Akaviri Empire worships the Daedra? They must be assassins working for Mehrunes Dagon," Danica replied.

"I suppose you are right," said Baranvir. "I dabbled in necromancy for some time in my youth, these markings on his face are the tattoos given by Mehrunes Dagon to his disciples."

"Well then, we'd better watch for more of these assassins, I think they know about the Convergence, and we can't let word of that slip out. Even to our allies," I said.

"I suppose we should get a move on," Baranvir said. "They know where we are now. Any luck on those books?" I flipped open _The Moth Priest_, and began to search.

"Wait, what's this?" I asked, showing the group my book. It seemed like somebody had been taking notes in the book.

"Rumors of powerful Elder Scroll, in Blackfang Cave," I read. "Proceed to study," I read again.

"Are we headed there next?" Danica asked.

"It's the only option, the scroll might be in there and we don't have time to find more evidence, it's time to go."


End file.
